The shoebox
by Geemen
Summary: A collection of drabbles, ficlets and whatnots... Or anything else short and Sherlock related for that matter.
1. Ch 1 The Rant

**Title:** The Rant.  
**Words:** Exactly 150.  
**Disclaimer**: I'm sad to say that I do not own Sherlock. If I did there wouldn't be a year long hiatus…

_(A/N) I know it's only a little bit of text but I probably managed to make some really stupid grammatical error. Please inform me of this! I'm dyslectic and English isn't my first language so please, any corrections are appreciated!_

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Sherlock Holmes was an arrogant prick who was too wrapped up in himself to notice anyone but his stupid murder victims.

Sure, he could take one look at you and deduce your entire life story, but he never really _noticed_ anyone, certainly not her. Why? Wasn't she smart enough? Of course not! Who could be smart enough for Mr. I-am-a-genius-and-I-know-your-deepest-darkest-secret-because-of-the-way-you-pronounce-the-word-windmill?

He didn't care that his bloody deductions made her fairytale romance with picture perfect Jim seem like something out of EastEnders! Maybe her little JimJim just happened to like designer underwear!

This, of course brought Molly back to the fact that Sherlock was a stupid git with an ego big enough to fill all of Paddington Station.

Molly Holmes didn't sound right anyway… No, it made her sound like some ancient wrinkled old lady who wore too much perfume. It simply wouldn't do.

However, Molly _Watson_ sounded a lot better…


	2. Ch 2 Wonderment

**Title:** Wonderment  
**Words:** Exactly 221. The last word ends with a B.  
**Disclaimer**: I'm sad to say that I do not own Sherlock. If I did I'd make Watson wear a bolder hat. (You know you want to see it...)

_(A/N) We had some heavy snowfall this weekend so I deceided to write this little 221B about it! Yay! My first 221B!_

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John never quite understood why so many people perceived snow as something magical. It was impractical; people could easily slip and get hurt. And that's something he likes to avoid. Sherlock, of course finds this illogical. (_Why wouldn't you want people to get hurt? You make your money by patching those people up! Snow increases the changes of injury, and as a doctor this is only beneficial for you_! _Really John, don't be silly…) _

The first few days of the fine white powder are fun of course. As a boy he used to go sledding with his friends and have snowball fights 'till his hand froze off. But after a few days the novelty would wear of and then he would realize that he had to endure an entire winter of those cold snowflakes that covered the earth.

He didn't miss it when he was in Afganistan. He missed home, London, the utter chaos that was Christmas shopping, but never the white snow. White never lasted in that awful dessert, eventually it always turned red.

But when he looks down at Bakerstreet from his bedroom window and sees figures all wrapped in thick coats, scarf's, mittens and warm hats protecting them from the frosty wind and the delicate little flakes of pure white, he cannot help himself and whispers:

"_It's beautifull…"_


	3. Ch 3 Wet

**Title:** Wet.  
**Words:** 221.  
**Disclaimer**: I'm sad to say that I do not own Sherlock. If I did I would have Mycroft show of his awesome Kong Fu skills with his umbrella

_(A/N) This little 221B is a little sad... Still I hope you enjoy!__

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Sometimes Harry hated her brother.

John always had been the good son. He was a sweet child. Sometimes a scuffle here and there, but boys will be boys. As he grew older he became more reserved, keeping his head down and his nose clean. Such a responsible boy, his teachers would say. He'd graduated top of his class, and got accepted into one of the finest universities in the UK for his medical training.

She'd always been different from her brother. Always a little too lazy to do well in school and a little too _curious_ for their family's liking.

Their parents were so proud when Johnny got his doctorate, everybody was moved by his decision to join the army. Always just perfect, just bloody perfect… John was everything a son, _a man_ should be.

But this man in front of her wasn't John H. Watson.

No, this man looked like he could shatter at any given time, this man tried to hide the twitching hand by shoving it in the pocket of his trousers. Because this man who clutched his cane as if his live depended on it, the man who simply stood there, getting drenched in the rain, with eyes older than his body, was her _baby brother_. And that's all that mattered.

Because sometimes Harry loved her brother.

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_(A/N) 20.12.2010 or 12.20.2010 depending where you're from: Fixed a typo._


	4. Ch 4 Random

**Title:** Random  
**Words:** 368  
**Disclaimer**: I'm sad to say that I do not own Sherlock. If I did Sherlock would have to give Mrs. Hudson a new china set every time he broke something of hers.

_(A/N) This is my first study in dialogue. It was quite hard to write, especially Sherlock! Still, I hope you enjoy!_

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"… and then I tol- _Sherlock_! What happened to my laptop?"

"Oh, I needed it for an experiment."

"..."

"John, are you alright?"

"You-you _blew up_ my laptop for an experiment?"

"No, of course not! Don't be absurd John. Why would I do such a thing?"

"Because you're crazy?"

"I'm not crazy. I'm a high functioning sociopath. You're a doctor, you should now this. Are you certain you have a medical degree?"

"Of course I hav- _Stop changing the subject!_ What did you do to it?"

"I threw it down a flight of stairs. Isn't it obvious?

"You threw it down the stairs?"

"No, I threw it down a_ flight_ of stairs. Really John, are you even listening to me?"

"…"

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to find a new roommate!"

"Why would you do that?"

"You ruined my laptop!"

"You said you wanted a new one…"

"I do, but I _can't_ afford one!"

"Oh… I see…"

"Sherlock, this is why you can't go around randomly smashing and breaking my stuff."

It's not _random!_

"You're not helping yourself…"

"The experiment was necessary to solve the case I've been working on!"

"I don't care!"

"Well you should, that case secured our rent for the next ten months!"

"I'm not in the mood for this discussion. I'm going to bed…"

"Wait!"

"What do you want know?"

"Here, I was going to wait and give you this on the pagan holiday of Saturnalia."

"You were going to give this to me on the what?"

"The pagan holiday of Sat- Never mind, I was going to give this to you on Christmas."

"You bought me a Christmas present? That-that's very _human_ of you…"

"Well, it _is_ the social norm to buy a friend a gift for Christmas isn't it? Now go on, open it!"

"…"

"I bought the wrong one didn't I? _I knew it_!"

"Sherlock… You bought me a new _laptop _for Christmas…"

"I can exchange it for something else if you like."

"Sherlock, you _bought _me a laptop…"

"I know, I was the one who bought It, remember. Really John, I can't imagine what it's like to have you petty little brain. "

"Merry Christmas Sherlock."

"Merry Christmas John."


	5. Ch 5 Vowes

**Title:** Vowes  
**Words:** 562  
**Disclaimer**: I'm sad to say that I do not own Sherlock. If I did I would give Molly a boyfriend that actually deserves her.

_(A/N) I really like writing 'Wet' so I decided to explore Harry a bit more. However__ Mycroft demanded to be added to the mix so the fic changed a little (read: entirely). Hope you like it!_

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They are so very different and yet so very alike. She is an alcoholic who never seemed to get life to go the way she wanted it. He practically runs the country and people obey his every whim_._

_So very, very different…_

Harry hardly remembers the first time she held her little brother. The only thing she can recall about the whole happening was that her parents started shouting at her because she almost dropped him. Baby John didn't seem to mind though, he blinked at her with his big brown eyes and giggled happily. That was the moment she vowed that she would always be there to make him feel happy when he needed it.

Mycroft can recall every single detail about the day he was allowed to hold Sherlock for the first time. He was wearing plaid trousers, it was rainy outside and they ate salmon for dinner. (At least he and his parents did, Sherlock couldn't process that kind of food yet.) Holding Sherlock went without a hitch. Mother and Father looked solemnly at their little perfect little family. The moment was utterly destroyed by Sherlock who let out a loud burp. Father snorted and smiled. It was in that moment that Mycroft decided that he loved his little brother. He promised himself that he would always be there to take care of the younger Holmes brother.

_So very, very much alike…_

They both promised, they both _swore_ that they always would be there for their younger brothers. Somehow they never quite succeeded…

Harriett can't remember a time when John wouldn't swoop in to safe her. He was always there to clean her up every time she got drunk out of her mind. Always there to make sure she was going to be alright. And every time she would promise she would never drink again_. -"I mean it John! Never again! "- _He would simply look at her with pity in his eyes. -_"Of course, Harry. Of course…" – _He was always there to help her, no matter what. It killed her that she couldn't do the same for him.

_She can't recall the last time he smiled at her._

The elder Holmes brother has always been overprotective of his little brother. When some bullies hurt Sherlock Mycroft made sure that the perpetrators never saw the inside of the school again. He would manipulate students to up check on him, he would pay teachers to make sure that would eat right. Anything to make sure that his little brother was alright. He worried about him, _constantly_. Sherlock hated it; he saw it not as an act of love but as a way to belittle him. Sometimes he would refuse to talk to Mycroft for months. It hurt him more then he cared to admit when Sherlock refused his help. All because he cared too much.

_He can't remember the last his younger brother smiled at him._

So when the eldest Watson sibling meets the eldest Holmes son they aren't the woman who can't keep her life together and the man who every single person in their right mind would fear if they knew what he did for a living.

No, they are two worried siblings who are waiting in a hospital room. Hoping, _praying _that their brothers would be alright.

_They are so very different and yet so very alike…_

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Please review!_


	6. Ch 6 Regent Street

**Title: **Regent Street  
**Words:** Exactly 150  
**Disclaimer: **Sadly, I don't own Sherlock. Maybe Santa will give it to me for Christmas...

_(A/N) And it's Lestrades turn! Hope you enjoy!_

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Lestrade isn't stupid, he really isn't. He knows John killed Jefferson Hope, the serial killer cabbie. Granted, it took him some time to figure it out but it's more than he can say for his co-workers. He knows he'll never be able to prove it and honestly, he doesn't want to. He's glad that Sherlock finally found someone to have his back. He'll never admit it out loud, but he worries about the consulting detective. Not like Sherlock's creepy brother but more in a 'Please don't get shot' kind of way.

So when he sees Holmes and Watson walking down Regent Street, laughing he doesn't greet them. He's not going to ruin the moment. Lestrade knows how rear moments of actual happiness are for Sherlock. It's even more exceptional that he's able to share one of those moments with a friend. And that is what John Watson is. A friend.


End file.
